


Politics and Peaches

by junko



Series: Senbonzakura's Song [36]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Renji gives his report to Byakuya about the incident with Captain Kyouraku at the gate, Byakuya's ex makes a surprise visit....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Politics and Peaches

Renji followed Byakuya through a sea of bowed heads. Like a proper adjutant, he kept pace just behind and to left as they moved out from the bodyguard’s barracks and down the hall. He waited to judge Byakuya’s mood before he said anything. Byakuya kept up the silent thing until they got to ‘the study.’ He ushered Renji in, and then slid the door shut.

This was a room Renji had only been in once before. There was a low, wide desk near the corner of the room, clearly placed to have a two-corner view of the courtyard garden when shoji screens were opened. There were several pieces of calligraphy on the wall, so beautifully stylized that Renji wasn’t sure he could read them. 

Byakuya frowned. He stood at the door, his hand still resting on the door catch. “I find it difficult to believe that if Shunsui Kyōraku wanted someone’s tongue he doesn’t already have it.”

Renji nodded. “I know, right?” Since Byakuya made no move to sit, Renji didn’t either. Instead, he rested a shoulder against a wall and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “The whole thing is weird as sin. I can’t believe he was sloshed enough to confess his intentions to me—if that was really what he was after, but fuck if I can figure out a better reason for him to be howling at our gates.”

Turning, Byakuya regarded Renji. He stared so long that Renji found himself standing up straighter.

“What?” Renji asked, feeling uncomfortable under this sudden and intense scrutiny.

“Dear gods, you’re refreshing,” Byakuya said. “I wouldn’t think I should so keenly miss your whole… demeanor, when we’ve only been apart a scant few hours.”

Renji tugged his ear. What the fuck was a demeanor, anyway? “Was that a compliment?”

Byakuya let out a little laugh. “Very much so.” He hunted around the room a little while until he found the bell pull to call the servants. “I’ll order tea, and we can have a proper talk. There are pillows in the closet. Get them out, would you? We can sit behind the desk together. There’s a nice space there. It’s where I used to sit and watch my father write.”

Renji saw the place Byakuya indicated. It was sheltered by bookshelves, and would be cozy with the addition of pillows. In a minute, tea was ordered and they had a nice place to settle across from one another. 

“So…,” Renji ventured as he fluffed up a pillow, “Not in a hurry to get back to your friend, then?”

Byakuya glanced up sharply and his only response was, “No.”

 _O-kay._ What did that mean? Weren’t they having a good time? Renji had a thousand other questions he wanted to ask, too, like, why was Byakuya still wearing the kenseikan, especially when he’d otherwise relaxed into informal clothes? Also, if he was having such a shit time with his ex, how come Eishirō seemed so damned determined to keep Renji away?

But, Byakuya seemed to want to focus on business for the moment, so Renji let out a breath and said, “I should tell you that, unless he gets up in the middle of the night, the Captain is sleeping it off at our expense at the inn across the road.”

“You gave Kyōraku one of our beds?”

Renji shrugged, “Seemed the decent thing to do.”

“Did he not try to mutilate one of my servants?”

“Well… technically, he only said he was going to,” Renji pointed out, scratching the back of his neck and making a ‘I dunno’ gesture with his other hand. “He didn’t actually do anything, except interrupt my time off.” 

“If he did nothing, how is it you’re so certain he was after Daisuke’s tongue?” Byakuya sat very formally, in seiza, his hands flat against his thighs. 

“Like I said, he confessed to me, didn’t he? When I brought him to the inn, I think he told me a lot of things he didn’t mean to.” Renji’s legs were crossed and his hands were everywhere, punctuating every word with a gesture. Feeling self-conscious about it, Renji tucked his hands up into his sleeves and crossed them in front of his chest again. “It was super-weird, Taicho. I ain’t never seen Captain Kyōraku drunk like this. Like, stupid drunk. I didn’t even think it was possible for a guy like him to get as shit-faced as that.”

Byakuya’s voice became curious. “What else did he say?”

“Ah, let me think.” Renji let out a breath as he tried to organize his thoughts. “So he said something about Captain Ukitake. I guess I must’ve been giving him the stink-eye because he said I shouldn’t look at him like Jūshirõ did, and then he said something cryptic about being a necessary evil.” Renji paused trying to remember if that was right. “I think.”

 _Tell him what we suspect_ , Zabimaru hissed. The Baboon King finished, _about the tongues_.

“Oh yeah, and Zabimaru figures that a slit throat is a…er, more final solution to a spy problem. He figures a cut out tongue is more like a signal to other spies to keep their mouths shut, you know? So, do you think that means we’ve got others of Kyōraku’s spies in our ranks besides Daisuke? I mean, not the Eighth does that stuff, but… well, Daisuke was his, so--” Renji trailed off because trying to figure out what Kyōraku’s Division did always made his head hurt.

Byakuya’s eyes flicked to the hilt at Renji’s hip. He said nothing for several moments, his eyes downcast, considering… or fuming. Frankly, it was impossible to tell what was going on in Byakuya’s head at the moment.

As the silence stretched, Renji thought to Zabimaru: _Maybe I shouldn’t’ve said nothing. I don’t always think he likes you much._

The Snake-Tail hissed a laugh. The Baboon King chortled. _His loss_.

True that, Renji agreed.

“Other Eighth Division spies in our ranks,” Byakuya said finally, his voice tight with control. “I would not suffer that lightly.”

“I’d feel the same, Taicho,” Renji agreed, glad to know the anger he thought he’d sensed was directed at Kyōraku and not Zabimaru. “What’re we going to do?”

Byakuya let out a short breath. “I don’t know. The problem is that it is so difficult to know Kyōraku’s true intentions. He is very rarely what he seems. It could very well be that this whole display of drunkenness is misdirection--to make us paranoid about our own ranks. But, to what end? Then again, if he was truly as out of control as you say, it might be nothing more than a mistake brought on by a heavy conscience.”

There was a knock on the door and tea arrived. Aio set the tray between them. When Renji caught her eye, she gave him a secret smile, as though pleased to see him with the captain instead of someone else. Huh. Renji resolved to remember to ask the servants what they thought of this ex of Byakuya’s. 

When Renji lifted the tray’s lid, he nearly choked. The chef had made a castella, a sponge cake. Usually they were rectangular, but this one had been made in the shape of a peach, the marzipan topping was so perfectly rendered it kind of looked to Renji like a little pink, plump, fruity ass.

“Uh…” Renji said, wondering if he dared ask if this had been prepared for the ex.

“Oh my,” Byakuya said, apparently having the same reaction. “Perhaps it’s a good thing Isoroku and I had not yet ordered dessert.”

“Miki must like him better than me,” Renji said dryly. “I never got no ass cake from her.”

“Renji!” Byakuya admonished, but he didn’t sound serious. In fact, he seemed to be fighting back a smile.

“What are we supposed to do with it? We going to cut it down its crack?” Renji asked.

Byakuya actually put a hand in front of his face because he couldn’t contain his smile any more. Renji’s palms itched to pull his arm down so he could see that smile of his, though at least Byakuya’s eyes danced mischievously, brightly. Finally, he seemed to get back under control enough to say: “You do it. We can’t waste it. I’m sure it’s…” there was another struggle, before Byakuya managed, “…tasty.”

“Ha!” Renji laughed. Taking the knife, Renji ran the tip of it along the line of the peach’s curving halves, slowly, caressingly. Twirling it in just the spot you’d imagine an asshole….

“Oh, Renji, stop,” Byakuya hissed. 

He seemed ready to burst, so Renji took pity and cut the cake. With it split in half and the marzipan cracked, it no longer looked quite so suggestive. Handing over a half to Byakuya, Renji smiled, “I guess that kind of wrecked the whole business vibe we had going, huh?”

“Completely,” Byakuya said seriously, but his mouth still twitched with the remains of a smile. He set the plate aside. Reaching up to deftly undo the clasps of the kenseikan, he gently slid the pieces out of his hair. His shoulders dropped as he set them carefully on the floor beside him. 

As Byakuya shook out his hair, Renji held his breath. Watching the midnight locks swirl around Byakuya’s face made Renji’s heart do funny, skippy things.

Peerless.

“I’m glad you’re home, Renji,” Byakuya said. Picking up the fork the chef had provided, Byakuya cut himself a little piece of the cake. “It was getting so late, I didn’t think I could call for you.”

“I was hoping you would,” Renji said, trying the cake. Good, but not as amazing as its appearance had been. “But, I’m kind of surprised to hear you say so. I didn’t think Eishirō was going to let me. I started thinking maybe you told him to keep me away.”

“Oh, I did.”

Renji had been glancing up to gauge Byakuya’s reaction. He sputtered, not expecting a straight-up acknowledgement like that. 

“I was afraid you might come up with some excuse to invite yourself in. Eishirō was far too eager to help. He’s fond of Isoroku.”

Renji frowned at his cake. “I thought me and Eishirō were getting along. What’s this friend of yours got that I ain’t?”

“A title, minor though it is. Land. Vast, vast amounts of land,” Byakuya said. Picking up the teapot, he poured Renji a bowl. “And no strings. He has a wife and a child on the way. If I were to take up with him again, we’d be casual, infrequent lovers.”

“I hate him already,” Renji grumped.

Just then, as if on cue, a soft knock came at the study door. Eishirō announced, “Lord Isoroku is retiring, my lord. He wishes to bid you a goodnight.”

“I suppose he’s just outside the door,” Byakuya whispered to Renji. “He’s been dying to meet you the moment I spoke of you.” Standing up, Byakuya gestured for Renji to rise as well. In a louder voice, he said, “Very well, send him in.”

Renji turned expectantly towards the door. 

The man that stepped through was nothing at all like Renji expected. He was tall, not quite as tall as Renji, though nearly so, and sturdily built. His skin was a rich brown, like Yoruichi’s, and like her, he had strong, striking features. However, the most standout thing about him was his straight, long, light pink hair that he wore hanging loosely to his shoulders. The yukata he wore was deep, emerald green with a lighter green bamboo pattern that rose up from the hems like a forest. His pink eyebrows raised when he saw Renji and the mixture of fascination and shock were plain in his expression. “Oh! You must be Renji.”

“Lieutenant Abarai,” Byakuya corrected tersely. Then, he said, “Please meet Lord Isoroku Takenaka.”

Oh, not a Kuchiki? But he could still be related, so Renji had no idea how far he should bow. He made his best guess and, just to be sure, held it a respectful moment before coming back up. He’d have gone to his knees, but Byakuya’s use of his rank made him figure he shouldn’t. 

The burly, pink-haired lord clapped his hands together and trilled girlishly, “Oh, Lieutenant! You’re so much more than I could’ve ever imagined.”

Renji decided, in the spirit of let’s-not-punch-anyone-straightway, to let the idea that this guy was imagining anything about him just roll off, for now. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, sir.”

“Oh! Such a gruff, rough voice you have! If you weren’t so…” Isoroku’s hands seemed to be trying to rub away Renji’s tattoos and hair, “…singular, I would say you should consider acting. You’d make an excellent villain.”

Villain? Renji had never really imagined himself a villain, but it was weirdly flattering.

“Isoroku is a playwright,” Byakuya said, as though in explanation. He stepped forward, around the tea things, to stand beside Renji. Renji could feel a hint of Byakuya’s reiatsu reaching out, curling around his own, like a hand on his arm.

“And a former actor.” Isoroku smiled prettily at Byakuya before reaching out to nearly touch Renji sleeve and then change his mind, “That’s how we met, of course. Byakuya was quite the admirer of mine. He plied me with lavish gifts until I could no longer refuse him. Very romantic, really.”

Romantic? Sounded more like Byakuya’d paid for it. 

Byakuya must have felt similarly because he clucked his tongue. “You make me sound horrible and desperate.”

“Don’t you think you were a bit, a first?” Isoroku teased.

“No,” Byakuya said in that sharp, final way he had. Renji had to fight to suppress a smile.

Isoroku giggled. It was a strange affectation for such a big guy, Renji thought. Though, looking at him closely, Renji figured Byakuya had a kind of type. He clearly liked the strong-looking ones. If you subtracted the pink hair, Renji could see this Isoroku guy playing the heroic part—he had a cut, strong physique. His jaw was square and his cheeks were high and sharp. If he quit playing up the mincing, froufrou stuff and had a complete makeover, he could pull off badass….maybe.

Turning to Renji, Isoroku asked, “How did you two meet?”

Renji glanced at Byakuya because he was half-tempted to say ‘he was drunk and ordered me to strip in his office,’ but instead he said, “I work for Captain Kuchiki.”

“Yes, yes,” Isoroku said dismissively. “But there must have been that moment when your eyes met and the heart started beating and all that, no?”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that moment,” Renji said. “I mean, our eyes didn’t meet exactly, because I was so blown away I couldn’t look at him. It was in Academy, and he took my breath away—for real, I could hardly breathe. I never met anyone like him before. I determined on the spot I was going after him.”

Isoroku put his hand over his heart. “That’s amazing! Oh, you’re very lucky, Byakuya. Did you feel the same?”

“Not at that same moment, no. It took me some time to properly notice Renji,” Byakuya admitted. “For me, it was seeing him fight. I’d gone to investigate him, to see if he’d make a suitable lieutenant, and I was… impressed.”

Isoroku waited for more for a moment and then let out a sad sigh. “You’re the worst storyteller ever, Byakuya. Where’s the emotion? Where’s the fire? Good heavens, it sounds like a job interview.”

Byakuya frowned, confused. “It was.”

“And that’s sexy, how?” Isoroku asked. “Listen to yourself, Byakuya! This one had a fire in his belly the moment he clapped eyes on you, and you… you were impressed. I don’t even know with what!”

Starting a little, Byakuya looked over at Renji. Their eyes met and Renji was surprised to see Byakuya’s cheeks redden as he murmured, “That’s private.”

“Private? Oh, you haven’t changed,” Isoroku said with a sad shake of his head. “I do pity you, Lieutenant. Getting this one to even smile can be such a chore, can it not?”

“Oh yeah,” Renji said in hearty agreement, “But he’s got a weakness for peaches. Turns out, they crack him up.”

“Renji,” Byakuya admonished lightly.

Isoroku lifted an eyebrow. “Base humor! I approve! I should’ve thought of it myself, given Mr. Kabuki Fan over there. Though, honestly, I suspect, had I tried, I’d’ve gotten a slap for it. You seem to temper him, you do,” he nodded to Renji with respect. “Have you been together long?”

Renji hazarded another glance at Byakuya. They’d talked all this time and Byakuya never told Isoroku the basics? “Uh, well, I guess it depends on when you count from,” Renji said. “I told him I loved him at Hanami… so, that was what, last spring?”

Byakuya stared at some spot on the floor, but he added, “Yes, and I made my move, awkward though it was, a few weeks before that.”

“Oh, how delightful!” Isoroku clasped his hands again. “You were awkward, Byakuya! That’s very telling. Usually, you’re so very composed and…” he waved a hand to indicate Byakuya’s current posture, “…formal.”

It was easy to see why these two broke-up. Even though it was clear Isoroku only poked Byakuya out of fondness, Renji was actually kind of amazed they lasted more than a few hours. Isoroku must be good in bed. Or maybe Byakuya gagged him.

There was an awkward thought. 

Now the image of Isoroku all bound up and gagged flitted uncomfortably pleasantly through Renji’s mind.

“You were headed to bed?” Byakuya asked. “I shouldn’t wish to keep you.”

“Ha! No, you certainly didn’t!” Isoroku exploded with a laugh. “Very well, on that very obvious note, I’ll bid you goodnight. It was pleasant to meet you, Lieutenant Abarai. You two be good now!” Then he waved his fingers goodbye and let himself out the door.

Byakuya seemed deeply relieved when the door slid shut. “He gives me a headache.”

“I’ll bet.” Renji chuckled. Add ‘willful’ to Byakuya’s type. “He’s entertaining, though, huh?”

“Very,” Byakuya agreed, turning to settle back down in front of the tea. “Despite what he says, he could always make me laugh.”

An actual stab of jealousy struck Renji. Had Isoroku seen Byakuya’s full-on smile or gotten to hear an uncontrolled belly laugh? How gorgeous a sight must that have been? The servants had intimated that Byakuya used to laugh a lot more, before Hisana died. Renji kind of wished he’d gotten to know that Byakuya, the one that laughed out loud.

“You have your thinking face on. Should I be worried?” Byakuya asked pouring a little bit of the hot tea into his half-emptied cup to warm it. 

“I guess he’s not at all what I expected,” Renji said, sitting down. 

“And what had you expected?”

Renji glanced up, not sure if he should say. He pushed the cake around on his plate a little before taking a bite. Then, he shrugged and said, “I guess I figured you’d want someone well-behaved and… subservient.”

“When have I ever wanted such things?” Byakuya said. “If I wanted that, I would date my house steward.”

Renji chewed on some of the marzipan. “So, Lord—“ Renji fished Isoroku’s surname from his brain— “Takenaka isn’t a super-bottom, an über ukemi?”

Byakuya snorted a bit of tea. “Oh, he is that. One hundred percent—and would be more if it were physically possible. It was, in fact, my greatest disappointment. There is no fight in him at all. Not like the characters he played on the stage. No, Isoroku receives… generously, without resistance of any kind.”

Oh, yeah. Renji could see how that might bum Byakuya out. But, it was still an interesting thought that Renji wanted to hear more about. “You mean all this time I’ve been working so hard to keep still, you actually want me thrashing around?”

Byakuya took a prim bite of cake and his cheeks flushed slightly. Setting the fork down, he regarded Renji very seriously. “What challenge is there in subduing something tame and docile? The greater the battle, the more profound a sense of victory.”

“No wonder Kenpachi is so hot for you,” Renji said with a wolfish smile. “You’re the same.”

“We are not,” Byakuya said firmly. The fork he’d begun to pick back up, clicked to his plate resolutely.

“You are, too,” Renji teased. “About this stuff, you are. You could be talking about fighting or fucking, it sounds exactly the same.”

Byakuya glared at Renji for a long moment. “The Kenpachi is not ‘hot’ for me. That’s disgusting.” Though Renji thought maybe the idea intrigued Byakuya a little. If they wanted a threesome that’d kill them…. No, Renji shook his head. That was suicidal. Besides, getting between those two? He’d be pulped.

But speaking of three, though…. 

“He’s not bad, you know, your ex,” Renji offered, eating the last bite of his half of the cake. “I could, with him. I mean, especially if he’s like you say. You could top me, I could top him. It could work.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Renji said. “That is, if it’s okay that I do that—top him, I mean. What, with him being noble and all.”

Byakuya looked surprised at the question. “I suppose I should ask him to be certain, but I can hardly imagine a scenario in which Isoroku would turn down the opportunity to ravished by a big, hulking brute. If you can endure his demure cooing, I suspect he’d fall down at your feet.”

Renji chuckled. He picked up his tea bowl and swirled it, watching the tea leaves dance. It seemed late for tea, but he took a sip, anyway. 

Byakuya finished his cake. Picking up his own bowl, he held it close to his face as though warming his hands. “I’m surprised you seem so willing. Did Isoroku impress you that favorably?”

Suppressing a yawn with effort, Renji shrugged. The guy was all right; not exactly Renji’s type, but good-looking enough. It wouldn’t be a hardship, so long as things went as advertised. Could even be fun. It’d been a long time since someone’s sighs caught on Renji’s shoulder or ‘cooed’ beneath him. “Cooing can be nice.”

“Ah, I see,” Byakuya smiled around his cup. His mouth twitched for a few moments before he said, “Though I seem to remember you had trouble commanding me when given the opportunity.”

“Oi, that’s because it was you.” Renji gestured to his chest, “I’ll have you know, I used to be quite the… commander. It was all I did before you.”

“Yes,” Byakuya said fondly. “I remember.”

Renji started to lean over the tea tray and give Byakuya a kiss, but stopped. He didn’t want to start something he couldn’t finish. They were still in the study. Even though Byakuya had finally taken off the kenseikan, it wasn’t clear to Renji if he’d been invited to stay or not. He’d just invite himself, but there was the issue of all of Byakuya’s family, not to mention his ex, staying at the estate. “Uh, I should probably head back.”

“Oh? Are you taking an extra shift?”

“Nah, I’m not back on duty until tomorrow afternoon,” Renji said. He’d set his tea bowl down but hadn’t quite gotten up the gumption to stand.

“Why don’t you stay?” Byakuya asked. “With the trouble with Kyōraku, I think it would be wisest that we’re both at hand should there be an attack on Daisuke. The bodyguards are ill-equipped to deal with a shinigami.”

It was an excuse. They both knew that if Kyōraku tried something again it would be over before either of them could react. Renji smiled, “You just want company, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Byakuya agreed, gracing Renji with a small smile. “That as well.”

**Author's Note:**

> I should say that I got the inspiration for the peach cake from the Wikipedia entry about castella: <http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Castella> (if you scroll down, you'll actually see the cake in question.)
> 
> Also, thanks go to Josey as usual.


End file.
